


Come into my parlor

by orphan_account



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Rape, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jonah Magnus receives a mark of his own.
Kudos: 15





	Come into my parlor

Jonah was too proud to cry out, but the silken ropes held him fast as Ambrose Dartmoor watched him struggle, a pleased, detached smirk on his face.

“I wasn’t expecting a guest today.” The man’s mouth didn’t move as he spoke, and Jonah refused to shudder, even as the man’s eyes roved over him as though he truly did intend to eat him. For all Jonah knew, he did. “What an ambitious little fly you are. Tell me, what brought you so far from home, little fly?”

The silk gag over Jonah’s mouth fell away, and he gulped air in surprise. “I wanted to learn more about the Web. You’re a difficult man to track down, Mr. Dartmoor.”

He was proud of himself for not stammering over the words, until he realized that Dartmoor was barely paying attention. He seemed to be watching Jonah’s stomach with interest, and Jonah risked a peek down, only to see that his clothing swarmed with spiders.

He bit down hard on the yell that tried to escape him--he’d  _ never _ liked spiders--but his voice wasn’t quite so calm when he spoke again.

“Mr. Dartmoor, please. Surely we can discuss this reasonably.”

“Discuss away, little fly.” The man reached down and plucked something from Jonah’s sleeve, and Jonah realized with a jolt what the spiders were doing. The thread in Dartmoor’s hand wasn’t silk, it was from his shirt. The spiders were undressing him. Thread by thread, but amazingly fast, for that. Jonah was practically naked within seconds, and a few seconds more was all it took before he was entirely bare.

“Mr. Dartmoor--!”

The man seemed to shiver, arching like a cat and slitting his eyes at Jonah. “Say my name again, won’t you, little fly?” All of a sudden, the man was only inches from Jonah’s face, his body unexpectedly tepid against Jonah’s own. “Only this time, a little less...formal.”

Jonah stared at him. He could feel how wide his eyes were, but he had no idea what to say. 

The silken ropes hoisted him up until he was suspended helpless, his arms secured behind him, his legs folded back on themselves and forced wide apart, and Dartmoor stepped up close to him and began to kiss and caress him. Not on the lips, nothing so dignified as that--Dartmoor’s hands cupped him and the harness swayed as Jonah arched back, trying to pull away as the man’s lips trailed stinging kisses down his stomach. He didn’t stop, either, and Jonah was horrified to hear a whine break from his mouth as Dartmoor manipulated him anew for better access.

“Dartmoor--” He gasped a protest, but the man practically purred.

“That’s it. Learn to give up control, little fly.” Dartmoor smiled up at him as his hands renewed their task, drawing a sound that couldn’t have been a moan from Jonah’s mouth. “Good. You might learn.”

The man’s attentions lasted for what couldn’t have been days, but felt like it to Jonah. His body betrayed him at every turn, arching into Dartmoor’s touch instead of away from it, forcing helpless noises from his mouth instead of questions. Jonah had learned nothing, but Dartmoor had certainly learned him, testing every way he could be bound, experimenting with the sounds he could draw from Jonah’s shuddering mouth in the darkness of the spider’s web. It only ended when Jonah’s awareness faded away. He felt Dartmoor inside him as the blackness gathered, heard the man ‘tsk’ disapprovingly, and he couldn’t even be sure it ended there.

When he awoke, he was still naked, and the spiderweb was gone. In its place was a small note on the floor of the chamber. 

Jonah crawled to it, shivering, and picked it up.

_ Best of luck, my ambitious little fly. Remember what you’ve learned here, and perhaps you will survive your next lesson as well. _

_ A. Dartmoor _


End file.
